


Darkness

by AlecticWild



Series: Out of Time, Out of Place [1]
Category: Shadowhunters (TV), The Shadowhunter Chronicles - All Media Types
Genre: Introspection, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-23
Updated: 2019-01-23
Packaged: 2019-10-14 22:28:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17516996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlecticWild/pseuds/AlecticWild
Summary: He looks in the mirror and his darkness stares back.





	Darkness

Everything fucking burns.

Cinder and soot. Smoke and ichor.

Because that’s what it does.

The boy he knows is being swallowed by the Other. He’s always there, watching with eyes like liquid obsidian and a daring, calculated smirk. It waits for the cracks, for the fissures that will erupt from cold brittle skin, splinter tired bone and snap the weak fleshy tethers that hold him together. Silent and smiling it sits, waiting to temper the boy before him with fire and hammered strikes.

Something inside of him keens for it; a wanting that resonates from the base of his stomach and up into his throat, practically choking him. We all know the type; that groan of desire, that gasp of breathlessness, that whimper that begs for more and more and dear Raziel just fucking give me _more_ -

 -  as muscle is castrated from bone and screams echo in his mind. His fingers twitch, feeling the warm hilt of his knife and the tell-tale grind of a serrated blade shiver up his arm as it rips through flesh. The red tastes sweet as it drips into his mouth; bittersweet nectar that wraps around his taste buds like a seasoned stripper works the pole. Fuck, it tastes incredible.  It just – why does it taste so good – _feel_ so good. Every nerve is burning, blistering his synapses and lighting up with golden promise.

Pleasure.

Pain.

_Pleasure._

 “Alec.”

He blinks, flinching as his entire mind slams back into his skull. The darkness goes translucent and the shadows retreat back into the faint lines and hollows that edge blue eyes. The light floods back so suddenly that everything is left feeling unreal and sick. Like a gruesome crime scene in the daylight.

“ _Alec._ ”

The voice is firmer this time. His gaze flicks to the right, looking at the man leaning against the bathroom door, one red boot casually hooked over the other and arms crossed delicately over a chest so as to not crease the green silk shirt that clothes it. 

Magnus’s eyes are sharp. And not just because of the perfectly applied eyeliner (although it definitely helps).  Alec doesn’t like it. Which is odd considering he usually 100 percent approves of the shrewd gaze that inhabits the warlocks face due to its ability to drip both intellect and ego all at the same. 

Now though, well now he just feels exposed. 

He clears his throat, trying to get rid of the sweet flavour in his mouth that is slowly souring. “You look hot”.

Cause’ come on. Leather pants. Damn.

Magnus quirks an eyebrow, his gaze dragging up and down what was assuredly the mess that Alec looked right now and huffed quietly.  “ _Ahuh_ ”.

Alec rolled his eyes. Well, he tried. He sighs, refocusing his gaze back to the shadow-boy staring at him. “I’m fine. Honestly. It’s just a thing. I have a thing”. He’s rambling again. “You know things. They’re just… _things_ ”.

Fucking Shakespeare move over.     

Vaguely he registers Magnus pushing away from the door and walking to stand next to him. Silk whispers softly against the bare skin of his arm and the feeling of it is almost too much to cope with. Blue eyes flick to brown for a second before having to look away from the intensity found there.

“A thing.”

His voice is warm honey. Smooth and deep.  

Alec swallows. “Yeah”.

They stand in silence for a moment, the discordant tones of 1920’s smooth jazz filtering through from the bedroom. The corner of Alec’s mouth quirks upwards. It must be that time of the year, he thinks, making a mental note to go and track down a pineapple when he got the chance. He flinches when something touches his hand suddenly, relaxing when he glances down to see Magnus sliding his un-marred fingers between his rough, calloused ones. Blue magic swirls from their joined hands, hovering in front of his face for second before moving forward to gently nudge his chin upwards.

The sharp eyes are softer now, smoothed with an understanding born from forever. "That sucks". 

Alec snorts, the sound transforming into a smile as he shifts closer to the Warlock, pressing his shoulder firmly against the other man. "Yeah".  

He glances at the mirror and his darkness stares back. 

"Yeah, it really does".


End file.
